Balamb Military Academy Revisited
by Fair as Sebastian
Summary: A look at life in Balamb through several very different people. Rated M for language and sexual themes. Chapter 3 up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer/Author's note: This is just your usual disclaimer—blah, blah, I don't own any of the original names or places, but the other characters that don't belong to Squaresoft are the byproduct of my own psychotic brain and thus belong to me. And, as a side note, this story takes place pre-Ultemicia, when Edea is still possessed. I will do my very best to keep everyone in character, but it has been a donkeys year since I have last played Final Fantasy VIII, and thus my perception of their personalities may be a tidbit skewed—I'll try my best. Bon Appetit.

Squall was deeply immersed in his paperwork (which, as we all know, is by far Squall's favorite pastime) when the door to his office burst open. As commander of Balamb Garden, Squall was not a stranger to sudden intrusions, but he had failed to acclimated himself properly to their startling nature. In a characteristically Squall-esque move, the lanky 17 year old bowed his head in irritation, let his shoulders droop visibly and, per usual, remained silent. The violent attacker of the door entered with no invitation and completely disregarded Squall's seething demeanor.

Before him loomed a high-ranking mercenary, possessing unmatched talent both on the battlefield and off (as well as in the bedroom, as this particularly twisted young SeeD would often comment to any who would listen.) While always appearing sober during missions and training, sobriety was not a state of mind that this mercenary subscribed to regularly. It was fairly obvious to Squall that he had indulged in a little morning cocktail before barging through the door and into Squall's office.

Attempting to disguise (or at the very least to lessen the appearance of) his drunken state, the soldier stood patiently before Squall, shifting his weight from foot to foot in accordance with his wavering balance.

"Do you have a message for me?" asked Squall. The soldier grinned and kept his bloodshot eyes from making contact with Squall's own well-rested ones. He offered no answer to Squall's inquiry. "Adrian, give me my message."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Don't talk like a pirate, Avalon."

"Sorry, sir, but it's in my nature, what with beins a pirate and all."

"The message?"

"Aye, aye, sir! Cid direly craves your presence in front of the directory ASAP. It's an emergency."

"I can meet him right now."

Adrian consulted his watch.

"No you can't."

"Yes, I can." Corrected Squall.

"No, you can't." Adrian answered him, putting extra force into his words.

"Why not?"

"Cid's having a spot of tea at present, but he'll be ready long about 2:30."

"It takes him 45 minutes to drink tea?"

"Well, I haven't been enlightened in regards to his affairs, but I suspect he's doing a bit more than just drinking tea, if you know what I mean."

"Don't be disgusting."

"I only meant I expected he'd make himself some pasties, what with him beins so poncey and all." Said Adrian, feigning innocence. Squall allowed his signature few minutes of silence to lapse between the pair before responding.

"Why are you running his errands? Can't he just call me?"

"No. Tis my punishment for accidentally exploding his telephone."

"…You what?"

"I only meant to tap it. As I later discovered, tapping a phone line requires little to no explosives."

"Leave. I don't know what you'll manage to break, but I'm sure it will be bad. And sober up, I think Cid is going to ask us to go on SeeD business today."

Adrian attempted a salute (which only resulted in him knocking his own Irish tam commonly known as a newspaper boy hat, as seen frequently in 20s American and European culture off his head) and turned on heel and exited. Once safely in the corridor, Adrian extracted from within the breast pocket of his coat a gleaming fifth of whiskey and took from it a rather liberal swig.

Cid stood before the directory and paced impatiently, to and fro and back again. He wrung his hands in frustration and consulted his pocket watch. It was not like Squall to be late. At his side was Adrian, sitting on the ground with his back against the directory and sneaking in another sip of whiskey. It had been his punishment to accompany Cid on all of his errands for the next month and act, in essence, as his bitch. He was to schedule appointments, take notes, fetch things, run messages and do other such secretarial jobs until his punitive slavery ended. It was the common opinion that by and large, Cid got the worse end of the deal. Not only was Adrian a less than adequate secretary, he was also a smart-ass drunk. While drastically exceeding average intelligence and appearance, he was quite the pain in the ass unless you knew how to put up with him. His long-standing girlfriend of several years and incidentally childhood friend was one of the few people who could haul in the reins on his behavior. However; she more often than not joined him in his childish antics, and even more commonly still was his cohort, his brilliant accomplice and genius mastermind. Separately, they were mischievous and at times boisterous–together, they were impossible. And yet somehow, they were respected beyond all others, and equally feared by the administration.

"You're sure Squall got your message?" Cid asked. Adrian nodded in the affirmative and took out a lighter. He lit it and let the flame glow for sometime before shutting the top. Flipping it open, he lit it once more, only to close it again.

Just as Adrian lit the lighter once again, Squall descended from the staircase, his boots tap-tapping across the floor and catching Cid's attention.

"Where the hell have you been? We agreed on 2:00!" said Cid, his voice straining with anger. Squall looked taken aback.

"Sir, the message I received was that we were to meet in front of the directory at 2:30. If my watch is correct (and no doubt it was correct, as Squall took to the habit of correlating his watches to match exactly that of NPR's time), it is now 2:29 and 28 seconds."

Cid rounded on Adrian like an angry mother bear.

"What is wrong with you!" he bellowed. The passing students all turned to look at the origin of such profuse anger. Realizing it was only Cid yelling at Adrian again, they continued on their way. "Did I not specifically say 'Tell Squall to meet me at the directory at 2:00!' Didn't I!" It was not a question. "Why did you tell him 2:30!" That, however, was.

"Because—"

"Don't tell me it's because you're schizophrenic again! That excuse only works so many times, Avalon!"

"Well, I _am_ schizophrenic." Said Adrian in a less than hurt tone of voice. "I was _going_ to say because that is the message you gave me to give Squall."

"It is not!" said Cid, outraged.

"Oh, but it is." Adrian retrieved from within that very same breast pocket a crumpled piece of paper. "Hang on! The words are gone! They must have fallen off! Oh, no, it's okay; they're on the other side. Here, see for yourself!"

_Avalon,_

_Pass the following message on to Leonhart: "Directory, 2:30, very important."_

_Don't screw it up this time._

After examining the paper, Cid handed it back to Adrian in slack-jawed disbelief.

"I…I can't believe it. You're actually _right_. I did say 2:30! I'm the one who…who…"

"Fucked up?" offered Adrian.

"No! I…er…my calculator must have miscalculated! I know I specifically calculated 7 minutes for my tea and 8 for my rendezvous with Kad—er…shut up!" finished Cid childishly. "What's important is that Squall is here now."

"Yes, sir!" barked Squall, immediately snapping to attention.

Siphoning it out from the midst of many other objects held within a canvas bag at his side, Adrian withdrew a map and compass and handed it to Cid. Cid jabbed at the map with the incredibly sharp compass and dictated his thoughts to Squall.

"You'd better be writing this down, Avalon!" threatened Cid.

Adrian, who had in fact been writing a note to his girlfriend, Brogan, begging for freedom from Cid sighed in resignation and turned the page to begin taking notes.

"I want you and two squads, consisting of three members each, to beach on the eastern shore of Dollet. There is a parade going on, and Edea is in it. The Squads will consist of Squad A: Leonhart, Kinneas and Tilmitt, and Squad B: Avalon, York and Dincht. Take the back streets to this tower here. One of Rinoa's people will give you the code. Take the stairs up to the top of the tower, and there you will find a gun. Give it to Kinneas—he is to assassinate the Sorceress Edea. While Squad A does that, Squad B will wait in the crowd. Should anything go wrong, I want the six of you to fight Edea. You must assassinate her. You must. Be in town at the docks at 1500 hours." Turning to Adrian, Cid looked at him sternly. "Don't screw up, Avalon. I know you can fight. You're one of our best. This is exceedingly important. No clowning around."

"You got it."

"Do you have enough Haldol with you, just incase…?"

"Incase I go schizo and hallucinate? Yup!"

"And…?"

"Xanax, too!"

"Don't you think you ought to try something other than Haldol? To eliminate the…unfortunate side effects."

"Nah. Uncontrollable body movements have become as much a part of me as my own two feet—which sometimes, I can't control!"

Despite the mocking attempt at humor, Cid did not laugh. Although Adrian could be a handful to deal with, Cid had grown fond of him. Having known him since age six, they had a strong love-hate relationship; though pretending to put extra emphasis on the hate, Cid harbored a secret (very secret) and strong love for the young soldier. Never having had any children himself, Cid looked upon certain students as his own offspring—mainly those from the orphanage who were just as sans-parent as he was sans-child. Feeling nothing but sympathy for Adrian's unfortunate schizophrenia, Cid often researched new treatments for it. Haldol had the terrible side effect of uncontrollable body movements, meaning not only did Adrian have schizophrenia, but many assumed he had Tourettes Syndrome as well. Being stubborn like he was, Adrian wouldn't listen to Cid or Dr. Kadawoki's advice when they suggested trying other medications. Though not positive, Cid suspected he refused just to spite them.

Fifteen hundred hours found the six of them assembled on the docks of Balamb town: Squall Leonhart, Irvine Kinneas and Selphie Tilmitt making Squad A, as Adrian Avalon, Brogan York and Zell Dincht made Squad B. Cramming themselves into one tiny boat, they were ferried across to Dollet. Uncomfortably cramped, they sat in near silence as they made the journey. Banking on the eastern shore as per instructions, they exited the craft, which was left on standby until further notice. The group divided half a mile into town; Squad A made a right at Union Street and found the tower. Rinoa herself was waiting for them to deliver the access code. Once her job was done, she scurried to catch up with Squad B, who had made a left at the intersection.

Squall had always enjoyed the adrenaline rush that SeeD missions always provided. His fingers and hands were tingling and cold, but his face was flush with nerves and excitement. Together the Squad climbed the stairs, Squall's legs less sturdy than usual. Upon reaching the top, Irvine found the gun stashed beneath the overhang of an old carrousel. The empty eyes of the horses were piercing and ominous, and Squall found himself less than comfortable when the whole contraption swiveled on its rusted joints and let out a piercing squeak. Resting his face in his leather gloved hand, he braced himself for what would come next.

"…Irvine? Are you…ready?" Squall managed to keep his voice from trembling in anticipation and anxiety as he spoke, but there was no masking the underlying tone of fear. Irvine did not answer, but merely nodded—once, and only once. He loaded the gun, pulled back the hammer and rested its barrel on the edge of the stonewall which ran the length of the balcony on which they stood. It seemed as though he were about to pull the trigger; but there was no noise. Irvine hadn't done it. He was shaking, and his breath seemed to come out jagged.

"Irvine?" Selphie was at his side. Irvine shook his head once more, readjusting his hat.

"If I make this shot, I'll be famous. I'll be written about in history books. This one bullet; it will change so much. Squall…" Irvine looked pleadingly at Balamb's commander. "I can't."

"You have to," Squall said in his brusque manner. This was no time for emotions, as far as Squall was concerned. He had mastered his, not it was time for Irvine to do the same.

He pulled the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Don't be off put by the shoddiness of the first chapter—it was not my best work. Needless to say, I was not quite myself when writing it. In essence, I hope to do better in the following chapters. Reviews are always nice (was that too subtle?) Oh, and I almost forgot to mention—I think that the actual parade in which Irvine attempts to assassinate Edea is in Deling City, if I'm not mistaken (at least I think it takes place in Deling…doesn't it?). Well, kindly over look the fact that I set it in Dollet, that was my mistake. Also, I am greatly considering dropping the rating of M down to T because, really, apart from some language now and then and sexual innuendos, there's nothing in here that's "offensive" or what have you.

As if due to some sixth sense, Edea was able to suspend Irvine's bullet midair. She let it hover, perhaps for effect, before letting it drop to the platform on which she sat. Though some considerable distance away, all six Balamb soldiers heard it fall with resounding force. There was no shock or delay for the ground team. Adrian, Brogan, Zell and even Rinoa jostled their way through the thick crowd. It seemed as though the majority of the parade-watchers had failed to notice the attempted assassination, but once the four SeeDs mounted the dais and locked themselves into an epic battle, the parade-goers noticed. Something less than pandemonium but more than mere chaos ensued—panicked parents and nonplussed children bunched together in a vain effort to remove themselves from a potentially redoubtable situation.

It took Irvine a few shaky seconds to regain his composure. In a very uncharacteristic movement, Squall patted Irvine's shoulder in a would-be comforting manner, had it come from anybody but Squall. Due to his standoffish nature, Irvine interpreted Squall's gesture as something more along the lines of, "I'll get you later." This did not expedite the recovery of his nerves, but Irvine allowed himself to be herded off of the balcony and down into the belly of the beast, where he, Squall and Selphie clamored aboard the dais and waited until they could be of assistance.

By this time the parade had halted and the surrounding pedestrians continued their attempt at fleeing. Given the architectural design of the city, the vast number of spectators seemed incapable of squeezing through the narrow alleyways and two lane streets at any considerable speed, and so had to settle for slowly trickling out and away form the Sorceress Edea and her prey.

Seifer, having become Edea's knight some time before, was the first and only obstacle between the SeeDs and the sorceress. With a particularly vehement blow, Adrian finished off Seifer who proceeded to lie in a heap at Edea's feet. Brogan, being perhaps the most literary minded of the group, may have laughed at the symbolism of the fallen knight laying at his lady's mercy in defeat had it not been such a critical situation. Instead she contented herself with making her attack on Edea. Beautifully countered by the sorceress, Squall realized this would be a much more difficult battle than he had anticipated.

Being a sorceress, it was very unsurprising that Edea's forte on the battlefield would be magic. Rinoa's strength was already beginning to dwindle under Edea's powerful attack. Rinoa was just preparing herself for her next attack when Edea released her fury upon the girl. Conjuring up some fatally sharp icicles with which to launch at Rinoa, Edea let slip one foul, crooked grin, distorting her otherwise seamless beauty. Perhaps it was a bizarrely Zen moment in which both Adrian and Squall were hit with an identical satori, but as it happened (or as Bokonnon from Cat's Cradle a work by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. tells us, "as it was supposed to happen") both young men knew, incontrovertibly, that Edea's attack would be the end of Rinoa.

In an attempt at futile heroics, the two men dove in front of the fast-fading girl. The first icicle hit Adrian directly through the shoulder blade and into what appeared to be the heart. The second pierced Squall in close proximity to his armpit. Both appeared to be fatal wounds.

Typically there is not much to see after one has been impaled by an icicle and is the middle of falling a good five feet to the cold, wet cement below. However, if you are Squall Leonhart, there is plenty to see. Not only had Squall been allotted just enough time to witness Adrian meet his own dire fate, but he had also been granted just enough consciousness to watch as Rinoa grasped ineffectually over the side of the platform for his seemingly lifeless body as it tumbled over the edge and to the emptiness below.

There isn't a word in the English language assigned, as of yet, to the type of holding cell Squall awoke to find himself in, although it was probably summed up best by Brogan, who chose to describe it as "a septic tank on a track with indoor plumbing and a bed." As Squall sat up on his tiny cot, he bore witness to a very familiar voice speaking to him.

"Squall…?" the voice asked. "Are you…like…alive?"

Squall, not to be put off by disembodied voices, answered.

"Yes."

"How monosyllabic of you! You really must be all right." The voice sounded jubilant. Perhaps it hadn't yet noticed where it was. Perhaps it was only a voice, and didn't even have eyes with which to notice its surroundings. Perhaps it knew something Squall didn't! "Incase you're wondering, this isn't Balamb."

"Adrian? Where are you?" asked Squall.

"If I am not mistaken, I believe I am directly beneath you."

Squall leaned over the edge of the cot and there, beneath him in the shadowy recess of the small bed, was indeed Adrian, stuffed and crammed and looking most uncomfortable.

"I think they like you better."

"They…?" asked Squall.

"Yes, they. You don't think that Seifer is running this operation by himself, do you!"

Squall shook his head no, but did not answer. Adrian, with a large amount of scuffling, tussling, wriggling and swearing, managed to free himself from the confines of the army cot and propped himself against the wall opposite Squall.

"So…" said Adrian, nervous in the lapsing silence. "Any…em…escape plans or anything? No? Well, I've devised one. Incase you're interested in escaping. No, you're not? What's that, you want to stay here and hand yourself over willingly to Seifer? Is this some strange fantasy of yours? 'An imprisoned Squall can only earn his freedom by seducing the cruel master, Seifer, but what happens when Squall starts developing feelings for his captor?' It's Stockholm Syndrome rolled into a gay romance novel! C'mon now, be sensible Squall. My well-laid plans are foolproof. Absolutely nothing can go wrong if you'd just work with me."

Squall let his silence do the talking for him, but he took the liberty in raising a well-arched eyebrow at Adrian, who returned his gaze with a pitiful one of his own.

"If you feel compelled to share your plans, at least make them brief."

"Top drawer! Okay, Squall, my pet, come pop a squat! Oh, you're already seated. Fine. If you'll take a gander to that there hatch on the roof, I believe you'll find it unlocked. It indubitably leads to loads of wires and things that go POP! when you cross them incorrectly. They should be easy enough to work around. Once we're on top of this…large, metal Tupperware container, I'm sure we'll be able to figure out a route down to safety. I'm not positive, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the others are here somewhere."

From outside their metal doors the pair heard the rough voices of guards.

"Come with me, little lady. We're takin' you down to see Seifer for a bit of the ol' in-out—er, I mean, for a bit of 'questioning.' Won't hurt a bit." The guard laughed at this, and his companion soon joined in.

"You filthy bastards!" the voice of Rinoa said. The sound of a guard slapping her filtered in, though muffled, through their thick metal doors. Squall looked dangerously upset at this turn of events, but before he could react, the sound of boots came tapping along the hallway.

"That's enough!" came the powerful voice of Seifer. "I'll take her from here. Give me 20 minutes with this one, and then fetch one of the pitiful slobs in there. Bring me Leonhart first."

"Yes, sir!"

The sounds of retreating footsteps soon faded altogether and left Squall and Adrian in a tense silence.

"So…about that escape plan. Ready to try it?"

Upon further inspection, Adrian discovered that while the hatch was indeed unlocked, it was painfully narrow. Not even a slender woman could fit through the opening without considerable effort and pain. Ever determined, Adrian demanded that Squall give him a boost anyway, and he removed the hatch's covering to peer about. Fitting up to his shoulders, Adrian wriggled his arms up and grasped the edge of the hatch. Either because he could not or simply because he would not hold on any longer, Squall simply walked away and let Adrian dangle free from the ceiling.

In a desperate attempt to remain aloft, Adrian grasped frantically at the cables and managed to find a loose wire among their muddled mass. With a loud and resonating sizzling noise, Adrian dropped to the floor with a loud thump and shook his head. Along his palm was the scorched mark of where the wire and his skin had made contact. It was raw, red and glistening, but did not discourage Adrian's grim determination.

"Well then…I guess we'll just have to try another method of escape."

"Patience is a virtue." Said Squall. "Try it once. You might like it."

"Doubtful."

The sound of boots approaching grew louder and louder. The guard had come at his appointed time to fetch Squall from his cell and deliver him into the sadistic hands of Seifer. He knew not what awaited him, but he knew it wouldn't be pleasant. Adrian watched as Squall was led away. He offered no struggle or resistance. Adrian wondered if perhaps Squall knew something that he didn't.

"Bored, bored, bored…" mumbled Adrian. "Bored!"

From somewhere to his left, a voice called out to him.

"Adrian?" It was Brogan.

"Brogan!" he called back. "Where are you?"

"I'm in a large, metal…thing. Where are you?"

"Our situations are not entirely dissimilar. I, too, find myself in a large, metal thing. Are you with anyone?"

"Yes, I'm here with Selphie."

"Really?" asked Adrian in disbelief. "I would have thought I'd have heard her by now if she'd been with you. I mean, I know it's a strain talking to you through all this metal, but we know how exuberant and loud Selphie is."

"Yeah, she's out cold. I heard Rinoa go by earlier though. You don't think that Seifer's really going to…"

"Have his disgusting way with her? No, I think not. Rinoa would be liable to bit it off before she'd let that moldy old thing get near her." Said Adrian, pulling a face at the mere thought of Seifer and Rinoa going at it. "Moldy, moldy."

"How do you know it's moldy?" asked Brogan skeptically.

"What do you think, I slept with him? Ye gad, no. I've heard talk among the ladies who have had the unfortunate experience of…copulating with him."

The sound of clanging metal announced a guard at Adrian's door. He unlocked the thick metal, grabbed Adrian by the collar and hauled him out. Pointing a gun at the back of his head, the guards marched Adrian down along a corridor. As he left, he heard the soft voice of Brogan calling for him. He hoped he would be able to see her again. Being at the mercy of Seifer and Edea's vindictive hands, he doubted very much he would be seeing anyone ever again.

The guards led him down into the quintessential torture chamber that every good villain must have. Edea and Seifer's dungeon was not that different from the standard lair of inequity. There was a sundry of pointy, pokey, probey, serrated and sharp instruments strewn about. Some of them Adrian couldn't even hazard a guess as to what they did or why, and some more yet looked vaguely kinky.

"I'll take it from here." Said Seifer once the guards had successfully buckled Adrian into a chair. They saluted and left Adrian to his fate. Seifer, no doubt in an attempt to look intimidating and fearsome, picked up one of the kinkier-looking torture devices and spun it around in his hands.

"Where'd you get that, Seifer? I saw it at the Sex Boutique for 30 gil a few weeks ago."

"Shut it, Avalon," growled Seifer, in another vain attempt at scaring Adrian. Adrian found himself hard pressed to suppress a snort of laughter—Seifer fondling a sex toy and trying to act frightening was almost more than he could bear. "I'm warning you! Not another snide comment, or I'll break your nose, you smart ass."

Adrian attempted to bow his head in a show of somber respect, but simply couldn't keep himself from letting one wayward snort of amusement seep forth. Seifer did not take kindly to this. Swinging hard, he landed a blow Adrian's jaw and connected with a sickening crack. A few moments of silence passed between them with Seifer breathing heavily and looking angered, and Adrian feeling the damage; suddenly, Adrian began to laugh. Seifer was at his wit's end. He landed another striking blow to the temple. Though sufficiently dizzy, Adrian managed to keep his laughter to himself this time.

"You're such a freak." Seifer told him. "Now, look over there." He pointed to a large lump of something dangling precarious from the wall.

"What am I supposed to see?"

"You're supposed to see Squall." Said Seifer, letting go a merciless bark of laughter. "Out cold."

Adrian was none too pleased to see this.

"You mother fucker! What'd you do to him? Did you do this to Rinoa, too? And the others?"

"Calm yourself, dear boy. Rinoa and I had a very _pleasant _little chat." He grinned wolfishly and Adrian kept himself from being ill. "As for the others, they're all waiting for their turn. Don't be too impatient." Seifer snapped his fingers and one of the guards sprang to life.

"Yes, sir?"

"Wake Leonhart."

The guard saluted and went to do his bidding. The guard pulled on a giant lever, and suddenly the overhead lights dimmed and a halo of blue sparks crowned Squall's body. It was an eerie sight: Squall was pinned to the wall with his arms outstretched and his feet resting on a tiny ledge. His body resembled the very image of Christ as he was crucified, and the sparks was his crown of thorns. Adrian was taken aback by the striking similarities as he watched on in horror. The guard threw the switch back and electrocution ceased. Squall's groggy head lolled over onto his shoulder before lifting itself up to meet the eyes of Adrian.

"Guess what!" said Seifer in a freakishly chipper tone. "We're going to play a game! The game is called 'Tell the Truth' and the rules are pretty simple. I'm going to ask each of you a question, one at a time, and you're going to tell me the truth. If I think you're lying, you get penalized. Avalon, for each lie you tell, I am going to electrocute Leonhart. Leonhart, for each that _you _tell, I am going to break one bone in Avalon's body. Who wants to go first!"

Nobody volunteered.

"Leonhart, you can go first. What is SeeD?"

The resentment in Seifer's voice was next to tangible. Though he had given it numerous tries, he had never been able to pass the SeeD field exam. There was no question as to why he was targeting the SeeDs; he was jealous of them.

"…You're kidding, aren't you? You know what SeeD is, Seifer."

"Oh, I'm sorry, no. That's one penalty to you, Leonhart. What bone should I break first? Oh, I know! A rib!"

And so Seifer broke one of Adrian's ribs. Adrian made no acknowledgement of his doing such.

"Avalon, the question goes to you. What is SeeD?"

"A military faction designed to act as mercenaries. You pay SeeD and they will fight for you."

"Very good, Avalon. Leonhart, what is the secret of SeeD?"

"What do you mean? What secret?"

"I'm afraid that's incorrect. How about a finger this time?"

"Seifer, no!" yelled out Squall. "I'll answer your question honestly, just tell me what you mean. What sort of secret?"

"What is the secret of SeeD?" Seifer asked again.

"Seifer, I don't know what you mean. Just explain it, please." Squall begged him.

"I'm sorry, that's just not the right answer. Since I had to repeat myself, we'll up the ante from finger to wrist."

And so he broke a wrist.

"Avalon, what is the secret of SeeD?"

"Seifer, I don't know, but electrocuting Squall isn't going to get you the answer. There is no secret to SeeD. We're born and bred for Garden, we grow up learning how to fight, cheat, hoodwink and win and we get paid for it. After that, we retire, and then we die. That is SeeD."

"Good enough. Next question to Leonhart."

But the game ended there. A guard came scurrying down and frantically waved to Seifer.

"Sir, General Caraway has sent word that Irvine Kinneas is to escort Rinoa Heartilly back to his home in Timber."

"Only Heartilly?" asked Seifer.

"Yes, sir, he only specified that Kinneas would be taking his daughter."

"Let's go get her then. Get these two back to their cells. I'll see you two again later. We've got to finish up our little game." Seifer smirked at Adrian and Squall before sweeping from the room.

Several guards freed Adrian and Squall from their confines and led them at gunpoint back to their cells.

"Brogan?" Adrian called through the thick walls.

Selphie's voice, which both Squall and Adrian (and likely enough everyone else in the building) could quite clearly hear, suddenly ceased. Frantic shushing from Brogan could be heard.

"Ade? Are you okay?" she asked him, the concern in her voice more than apparent.

"Um, yeah. Squall's here too. I think we're okay. Squall's hair is standing up at all weird angles, but that's kind of expected, given the nature of his visit to Seifer's lair."

"What are you on about?" Asked Brogan.

"Yeah, Seifer electrocuted Squall."

A large volley of indignant shrieks sounded from the next cell. Adrian let it die down before continuing.

"But he's okay. At least I think he is. He's alive, and he's not talking, so I think everything's normal. Right Squall? Oh, now he's glaring at me. Yep, he's obie-kabie!"

"Did he electrocute you too?"

"No. We played a game. It was called 'Let's break Adrian' and it involved breaking my rib and wrist."

Another round of indignant and outraged shrieks could be heard echoing from within Brogan and Selphie's cell.

"That bastard! When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna chop his balls off! One for you and one for Squall!" Said Brogan in outrage.

"Assuming he has any."

Before much time could elapse and Seifer could come back for them, the SeeDs devised a plan. It was Selphie's brilliant brainchild. It entailed Selphie playing sick and Brogan calling for help. Once the unsuspecting guard opened the door, they would fight him. Once they rendered him harmless, they would steal his keys and free the others from their cells. Once they had completed that task, they intended to set out and find the exit to the building and flee anyway possible.

"Guard, guard!" Brogan called. "Help! Guard, help! Ayudame! Aidez-moi! Helfen sie mir! Aiutilo! Ajude-me! Ow, Selphie, I was just being thorough!"

A guard knocked on the door.

"What's going on in here?" he asked.

"My friend…I think she's really sick! She just slumped over, and she won't wake up! Help!" cried Brogan, sounding truly scared.

"Aw, Christ…" spat the Guard. "Okay, lemme get the key."

They heard the jingling of keys and then the tumbler on the lock released and the metal door swung forward. Brogan let loose a wild yell of triumph as she and Selphie pummeled the guard. With a dull thud, he hit the ground.

"Tee-hee," said Selphie.

Quite suddenly, the door on Adrian and Squall's cell swung open to reveal a broadly grinning Selphie and Brogan. Adrian and Brogan caught each other in a large hug. Selphie was about to hug Squall as well before realizing whom she was dealing with and restrained herself. Squall seemed oblivious to the world around him, per usual.

"Where are Zell, Irvine and Rinoa?" Asked Selphie.

"Well, Rinoa's father wired a message demanding his daughter's release, and Irvine was going to be the one to bring her home. So they're out. I don't know where Zell is. Let's try the cell next to ours."

Adrian knocked on the door of the cell next to his. He heard a scuffle from within and a large bump. Then there was silence.

"Zell? It's us, Zell."

Zell's voice came from within.

"No Zell here."

"Zell, it's Adrian. Quit being an ass. Toss me the keys, Selphie. Ouch! I said toss them, not chuck them at my head."

Adrian opened Zell's cell and a bemused Zell wandered out of it like a drugged polar bear being freed from its pen at the zoo. Upon discovering that it was indeed Adrian who had freed him, Zell looked overcome with joy. Though preventing him from encompassing his aching body in a bear hug, Adrian was also glad to see Zell.

"Did Rinoa and Irvine leave?"

"Yeah, sure did." Said Zell.

"Let's get a move on before they discover our nasty little trick." Said Brogan, directing the group to the staircase.

It very little time for Seifer to become aware of their disappearance. It was also not very hard to piece together what had happened: an unconscious guard who was missing his keys, three empty cells which had formerly housed SeeDs who were going to be tortured…yup, this was definitely the work of a Garden student. It had the word SeeD written all over it. As soon as Squall, Zell, Adrian, Brogan and Selphie reached the landing two floors beneath their cells, they were cut off by a handful of irate soldiers. As soon as finishing them off, the group managed to get to the next floor before encountering the next fresh batch of soldiers. It wasn't until the fourth floor down that there suddenly came gunshots from the roof…gunshots that sounded suspiciously like Irvine coming back to rescue them.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry for the uber-long delay in update, I've been very busy lately. Who knew I'd ever be busy! Anyway, thanks to my first (and thus far only) reviewer…that totally made my day! Okay, here you have it, chapter three; sorry it's so short.

It had been a victorious battle. Irvine and Rinoa had swooped down and made their predators into prey and had taken them out at exactly the right time. The group had found their way to the desert land surrounding them and drove through the desolate landscape back home to Balamb. At present, Squall was taking an afternoon nap as Rinoa busied herself with the seemingly insurmountable task of acquainting herself with every single student, staff and faculty member Balamb held within (and occasionally without) its walls. Zell was off in the cafeteria queuing for a hot dog and Adrian was conversing with Brogan but mere feet behind him.

"…He was mad as a hatter."

"No surprise there, he's always been a bit off. Still though, you'd hardly expect that sort of thing from Seifer, working with the enemy and all. I'd never pin him down as a turncoat."

"Zell once told me that during the field exam Seifer had told him he had some big 'romantic dream' he wanted to fulfill…well, I swear I heard him mention something like that to Squall earlier…something about him and the sorceress. Maybe he's living out his romantic dream with her?"

"There's something suspect about that whole dynamic, if you ask me. Squall and Seifer hate each other, yet desperately crave each other's respect. If Seifer said, 'Gee, Squall, you sure are a superb fighter,' Squall'd be so ecstatic he might actually…dare I say it…express an emotion other than: A) indifference B) Angst C) Depression D) Irritation."

"I wouldn't stretch it that far, but he'd sure be pleased with himself. I'd even be willing to wager that if ever Squall were to compliment Seifer, he'd be cockier than usual."

"Is that even possible?"

"Oh it's possible. Don't you remember when Seifer claimed to have bagged a Hungarian super model? He was cockier than ever then."

"Yeah, until everyone found out he actually bagged that mousy little librarian who's always pining after Zell. That took him down a notch or two."

"Maybe she has a fetish for blondes…"

"There's a librarian pining after me?" Interrupted Zell, who was still queuing in front of Adrian and Brogan.

Brogan's jaw went slack.

"How could you possibly not realize that girl is completely taken with you? If she took her flirting any further, you two'd be doing the dirty right there on the check out counter!"

"It's true you know." Conceded Adrian in an authoritative tone.

"Frickin' hell!" Zell exclaimed before returning his attention pensively to the long line ahead of him.

The pair broke off their musings to instead pursue some entertainment, which for them was more synonymous with 'Squall bothering' than any hobby ever could be.

Squall was abruptly woken from his nap by what he (secretly) called his 'Squall Senses,' which alerted him to any unwanted presence. The face of Rinoa loomed into view over him, and he peered blearily up at her before sitting up. Rinoa broke the overwhelming silence.

"You're cute when you sleep. You're all innocent."

Per usual, Squall said nothing.

"C'mon, take me on a tour. I keep getting lost," wheedled Rinoa.

It took a surprisingly small amount of cajoling to get Squall to agree to give Rinoa a guided tour of the school. As they rounded the bend and the quad came into view, Adrian and Brogan spotted the couple.

"Oooh, something's going on _there_," whispered Brogan, who was crunched up next to a fiercely silent Adrian.

Adrian and Brogan had become quite fond of the sport of Squall hunting some odd 5 years ago. They had taken to concealing themselves in some precarious spot along the school and, at just the right moment, jumping out at Squall and ambushing him. Not only did it keep Squall on his feet and his instincts finely honed, but it provided Adrian and Brogan with a good laugh as well. At present the pair had hidden themselves along a ledge above the entrance to the cafeteria, and were crouching precariously, ready to strike.

"Let's strike."

The pair launched themselves from their cleverly concealed hiding spot and each let out a bloodcurdling war cry. Squall's instincts took over as he jumped in front of Rinoa to protect her and drew his gunblade. Adrian came crashing into him and Brogan was there to pin him to the ground. Despite being of slender build, Brogan used her weight to pin Squall down, his gunblade clutched in his now useless hand. Adrian loomed above him, a triumphant grin adorning his handsome face.

"Gotcha, Squally, m'lad!"

"How does it feel to be on bottom?" Brogan asked suggestively. "I sure like it."

"Get off him, you two!" interjected Rinoa, flushing a light pink. She grabbed and tugged Adrian by the ribs, trying to push him backwards, away from Squall's struggling form. He managed to push Brogan off himself and he glared at her intently. She seemed remorseful for having caused him such embarrassment in front of Rinoa, but knew that was neither here nor there, considering she had already embarrassed him and the damage had been done.

Rinoa quickly scurried over to Squall's side, past a hysterical Adrian, and helped him up, lifting him up by the elbow. Squall looked flustered and embarrassed. Of course, he remained silent.

It looked a rather motherly action to Brogan as she studied Rinoa hoisting Squall to his feet, but she said nothing further. Normally, Squall would have shrugged off any person who tried to help him to his feet—or tried to help him in any way at all. It was a sign of weakness for him, and for Squall that was the kiss of death. So why was he letting Rinoa see him in such a vulnerable state? It was most unlike Squall indeed.

With a withering look from Squall, Adrian and Brogan left, the words "pub" and "rounds" being all Squall could hear of the pair's afternoon plans. The silence between the taciturn boy and the normally boisterous girl was nearly unbearable as they walked the perimeter of the school.

"That's the quad…this is the infirmary…" mumbled Squall as they passed the various hallways.

"The lady there is nice," noted Rinoa.

"Dr. Kadowaki."

"Yeah. She gave me some good advice earlier."

They paused in front of the directory. Blank and unreadable as usual, Squall remained silent.

"Squall…listen," began Rinoa, flushing a distinct pink. "I know we haven't known each other for very long, but…um…well, I wanted to thank you for all your help."

"It's my job." Squall answered flatly.

The disappointment in Rinoa's eyes should have been obvious even to Squall. _Should _have been, but passed over his head all the same.

"Well, thanks for the tour. I don't think I'll get lost so often anymore." Her words trailed off as she walked away, eyes downcast and less vibrant than usual. Squall stood for a moment yet, thinking…

It was an easy enough guess as to where Irvine would be—hitting on Selphie, of course. But where could Rinoa find Selphie?

The quad was relatively busy, given the limited members of the Garden's Festival Committee, but Rinoa had no trouble finding Selphie, her overzealous voice ringing out vibrantly against a sea of monotonous, pained groans and grumbles.

"Where are you going with that?" Selphie demanded of a rather frightened junior classman. "That panel goes stage RIGHT, not stage LEFT! And you call yourself a thespian!"

"I'd stay away from her today if I were you," said a voice coming from somewhere around Rinoa's knees. Upon further inspection, the voice turned out to be none other than Irvine himself, concealed beneath a partially completed platform.

"Oh, Irvine, it's actually you I wanted."

Irvine's eyebrows shot up in surprise and delight, disappearing beneath the brim of his hat.

"What took you so long, darlin'?" he asked her suggestively.

"No, no. It's not like that. Can I talk to you in private?"

"Though looking slightly crestfallen, Irvine, ever the gentleman, gestured for Rinoa to join him in his fort of solace.

"At present it has very strong anti-Selphie shields all over it. Unless she's naked. Then the shields go down." Irvine explained as Rinoa slid beneath the platform's low walls.

"I want to talk to you about Squall. I know we just met, but he won't even talk to me. I know he's emotionally cut off and all, buty trying to get three words from him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone."

"That's just Squall. He's a one-way street. You could spend days telling him your most private, intimate thoughts and he wouldn't say more'n two words to you the whole time. Likely as not, those two words would be 'shut up.' Poor kid's not into girls, boys, beasts or birds. I don't know how he gets his kicks, but there sure ain't one thing to bond with him over. Best I can figure's he's been lobotomized…or castrated."

"Irvine, that's terrible!"

Irvine let loose a low, mirthful chuckle at Rinoa's indignation.

"The truth is a terrible thing sometimes."

"Well, I'm really into him. I don't think he knows it. How can I make him see just how much I like him?"

"Be his friend. He's never had a real one of those before. It'll take him some time to figure out what you're doing, i.e. being nice, so bear with him. He'll cotton on soon enough. Now, I'm not sayin' he'll take to it, but he'll sure catch on. Eventually."

"He's so frustratingly oblivious! I swear, sometimes I could just kill him."

"Get in line. Squall's at the top of many hit lists."

Rinoa walked away from her conversation with Irvine feeling even more hopeless than when she had sought his council. Still…it was worth a shot. If only she could get him to open up a little bit…just an inch, and she could pry the rest of his armor off. She was certain the real Squall, the one hidden beneath all those layers of insecurity and fear, was slowly dying, and she had to be the one to rescue him.

Although she might look carefree, Rinoa was quite thorough when she set herself to a task. Deciding that one opinion, despite however knowledgeable about romance, just wasn't enough, she chose to seek council elsewhere.

"Squall? He's hopeless, lass. What d'ya want to know about 'im anyway?" Asked Adrian.

Rinoa looked decidedly uncomfortable as she shuffled from foot to foot.

"I want to get to know him." She blurted, flushing. "I like him." She added, more slowly this time.

"So, you want him to 'open up' to you?" asked Brogan. Rinoa nodded and Grogan and Adrian looked pensive.

"Excuse us for a moment," said Adrian as he turned to Brogan, encompassing her into a huddle. Their whispering was white noise to Rinoa, who could make nothing of their talk.

When they reemerged from their huddle, Adrian was chuckling in a scholarly way, much as though he had been told a very intellectual joke and found it to be dryly humorous and applicable to his life in the most ironic way. When he caught sight of Rinoa, he seemed to remember what it was he had been discussing with Brogan and immediately put on a serious expression. He cleared his throat and folded his hands in a business-like way. Beside him, Brogan had taken to looking imperious, viewing Rinoa down the length of her nose, but not in a contemptuous way.

"My colleague and I have talked it over and we're decided you have a chance at thawing out who we only half-joking refer to in secret as the Ice Prince. Our dearest Squall Leonhart, aged 17 years and some odd days, though stoic by nature, can, in fact, be reached. It will take the gentle touch, patience, cunning and caress of a true woman, but it can be done so long as you are willing to endure long stretches of unfruitful aggravation, frustration and awkward silences. Are you willing to give it your all with no guaranteed success?" Asked Adrian.

"Yes."

"Really?" Brogan looked flabbergast at this young, naive girl before her. "Even after that long speech? You still want to chase after this crush of yours?"

"It's not a crush, I—I'm really falling for him. I think I—"

"Don't say it!" said Brogan. "You're too young." Then, turning to Adrian, she added, "This generation, I swear. They fall in love like we buy shoes!"

"But we buy shoes only every now and then. _And_ we buy them in the nude."

"My point exactly. Have you ever heard such a thing?" asked Brogan.

"You're not even making sense, love. I say you shut up now."

"Right-oh." Conceded Brogan, sighing wistfully.

"Anyway, Rinoa. Nobody's ever tried so hard to get him out of his shell before." Said Adrian, looking at her with something Rinoa couldn't quite identify. Concern, maybe?

"I know." Rinoa answered solemnly, walking away and leaving Adrian looking thoughtful.

'I know I can do this…' thought Rinoa. 'I can't afford not to. Squall can't afford not to. I know he feels the same. He was going to sacrifice himself for me that day we fought Edea.'

She would never actually admit it, but in the short few months she'd known Adrian and Brogan, she had formed her idea of love around their relationship. They were both 19 years old, having been together since childhood. Adrian knew Brogan as if she were an extension of his own self, and she knew him just as well. They were each other's constant companion and best friend, working as one together. She knew just how much they loved each other, it being quite obvious to everyone, including Squall. If ever one of them died, the other would be a mere seconds from following, for one could not live without the other. Rinoa wanted that. She wanted to know someone so well she need never guess what he was feeling—instead, she would feel it as if it were her own emotion. She saw that future with Squall.


End file.
